


A Simple Touch

by ThePandoricaWillOpen



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: BAMF Bones, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Oblivious Jim, Rating May Change, Scars, Touching, bones is tired of your shit jim, bones matchmaker, confused jim, mccoy humour, spock and kirk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePandoricaWillOpen/pseuds/ThePandoricaWillOpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock has always felt a pull towards Jim. Jim loves his stoic First Officer. Now, trapped on a lunar colony, Spock and Kirk finally realize their feelings for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Captain's Chair

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on FFNET as drabbles but I've decided to edit and post it here. This is a work in progress, but it is all planned out. Comments would be fantastic.
> 
> Note: The first chapter is drabbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also note that I will be editing and changing as time passes. I will leave notes should I lengthen any chapters already posted (which I will).

It was illogical for Spock to feel anything as Yeoman Rand leaned over Captain Kirk’s chair, her hair covering her face as she spoke to him, and he reaching over and moving it away from her features. It was illogical to stare, or glare (although, Vulcan do NOT glare), at the human when she retreated, a faint pink over her cheeks. It was illogical for his gaze to remain on the captain for a moment longer than needed. Spock shook his head and returned to his science station, reading out anything they encountered in space and never thought of it again.

* * *

Spock stared at the Captain from the corner of his eye as they made their way down to the mess hall. Alpha shift was over and dinner had commenced, which was where they were heading although Spock had no need for nourishment now. But the Captain said that seeing them together, in harmony, brought certain calmness to the crew, which was, as Spock protested, illogical. However, the Captain had insisted, and ever since then, they had gone down together.  He looked at the Captains aesthetically pleasing features and mentally sighed. This was his superior officer, after all.

* * *

They were in Star Base 11 when the Captain’s hand had accidentally brushed up against his. He retracted his hand immediately and somehow, as he looked at the hurt expression on the Captain’s face, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and take his hand in return. The moment their hands had touched, his mind had been filled with such wonders, such _humanness_ , that it scared him. Was this what humans felt on a daily basis? – He wondered. Love was the most distinct emotion he felt coming from the Captain. But love towards whom?

* * *

Taking bolder steps, Spock stood behind Kirk’s command chair any chance he got. When Kirk would spin his chair around, Spock would be there, his eyes waiting for a request from his Captain. Spock would catalogue everytime the Captain would smile at him before asking him to preform a scan, a report or anything else. As was his duty as First Officer, Spock obeyed without a complaint, and he found that he quite enjoyed following the Captain’s every word. He’d be the one the Captain asked for counsel when they were in a ‘sticky’ situation. He’d the one he’d listen to, no one else but his Spock.

* * *

 James Kirk did not know what it was that attracted him to his Vulcan First Officer. Was it the exotic looking ears; the green blood that made his way to Spock’s cheeks whenever he thought no one was looking? Was it his unwavering eyes whenever he looked into the face of an enemy? Perhaps it was because out of everyone, except McCoy, (but who could stop Bones, really) that could speak his mind to Kirk, call him out and even question his orders. It was something that Jim could not put his finger on; all that mattered was that his Vulcan First Officer was always by his side.

 


	2. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stranded on a Lunar Colony, Jim and Spock are forced to share lodgings.

They were on a routine check up on one of the lunar colonies when they got stranded. Spock, himself, Bones and two security officers had beamed down to the surface to speak to the colonist when, of all the times, a storm began to take hold. And not just any regular storm, as Bones pointed out God knows how many times, an  _electric_  storm. Well, perhaps not electric but – as Bones put it – it would make Benjamin Franklin jump for joy and Jim wasn’t about to argue with the good doctor. Spock, unlike Bones, had been rather calm about the entire situation and had, with his ninja disappearing skills, acquired them room to lodge while the captain and the doctor had been admiring the storm. He’d also contacted Uhura to let them know of their current situation. If it wasn’t for his gold uniform, Jim would’ve sworn Spock was the Captain of the Enterprise and he, his First Officer.

Soon after they were on their way to their rooms, walking as fast as possible as to avoid the storm.  _I was only able to acquire three rooms,_  he explained on the way,  _they were the cleanest I could find with such an impending storm heading this way._ Jim had replied with _that’s alright, Spock, we can bunk together_ , to which Spock had merely lifted a beautifully curved eyebrow in response. Bones looked at the Captain with a raised eyebrow of his own before declaring,  _I call dibs on a room_ , and walking away without another word.

“Well, Spock,” Jim said walking next to the Vulcan, trying to hide a grin. “I guess that leaves me and you to bunk and Garrett and Nicks.” Spock did not reply but his eyebrow did make a disappearance under his dark fringe of hair.

Arriving at the rooms Spock had found, they separated – or rather, they glared at Bones as he happily danced his way into his room – and went in to rest for the night. Communications was shortly cut off and the Enterprise couldn’t use the transporter beam without risking their lives so, for the moment, they were stuck on the lunar colony, not that Jim was complaining. Being alone in a room  _alone_  with his very handsome, very hot Vulcan First Officer was not too shabby.

* * *

He’d woken up after falling asleep just moments after he’d, jokingly, had thrown himself on the large bed. Until his head had hit the strange smelling pillow he hadn’t realized just how tired he’d been. He’d fallen asleep, probably with a straight back Vulcan raising an eyebrow at his Human weakness.

Jim woke up on his side, covers over his body and hand on something soft. Something warm was caressing his fingers; something smooth was fondling his hand. His eyes snapped open and connected with the dark brown human eyes of the Vulcan next to him. Jim’s hand was in Spock’s, who had, until he’d woken up, been caressing it lightly. The moment their eyes connected, Spock let go of his hand roughly and got up. Jim turned on his back and looked at Spock has he got up and left the room without another glace at his Captain.  _Strange,_  he thought before his eyes closed on their own and he was swallowed up by the darkness.

* * *

He’d almost forgotten about the whole fondling incident until the next night, that is. The storm hadn’t let up, if anything it had intensified, as the angry Doctor with his own room had pointed out at breakfast. Communications were still offline and that meant no going back to the Enterprise. Jim decided to make the best of it by gathering in Bones’ room, much bigger than the other two, he noticed, to camp out. As Spock pointed out without really looking at him, they could not camp  _out_  if they were  _inside_. But Jim ignored that and took to planning.

Hours later, they were all listening to Bones telling stories about the ‘good old days’. Well, everyone but Spock was laughing and seemingly enjoying themselves. If Jim had not been spying on him and seen a slight quirk of his lips every once in a while he would’ve thought Spock was having a horrible time. When it was time to pack up, Bones wouldn’t let them all sleep in his  _larger_  room, they went their separate ways.

Spock opened the door to their room and sat down on the floor on the darkest corner of the room. Jim looked on curious as Spock began to meditate.  _Wonder was his panties in a bunch that he needs to meditate that bad._  He left Spock alone to do his thing and prepared for bed.

* * *

He was woken up by an unbelievable heat source coming from somewhere behind him. Without another thought Jim scooted back until the warmth touched his skin. He sighed happily before asking himself where the heat was coming from. With his left hand, he touched his back and the heat source, which was strangely soft.  _Huh,_  he thought,  _if I didn’t know better I’d think it was a pers-_ SPOCK!

“Yes, Captain?” A deep voice whispered behind him. Eyes wide, Jim didn’t respond. Had he even said anything out loud? Hadn’t he been thinking when he’d said Spock’s name?

“Captain,” Spock said behind him, pulling himself closer to Jim. “Are you aware that Vulcan’s are touch telepaths?” And that is when Kirk knew he was screwed.

* * *

 

Spock’s hand brushed up against Kirk’s many times but amidst all tension and sleeping arrangements his mental barriers had seriously begun to crumble. Being in the same room with the blue eyed Captain was bad enough but having to share a small bed with him was just... illogical. Not the act itself but the emotions it caused in the Vulcan. He had tried to resist but ended up Vulcan kissing the captain as he slept after collapsing on the bed upon arrival.

At the moment of his collapse, Spock (although he would never admit to doing so) panicked as Jim collapsed unconscious on the floor before he realized the Captain had merely fallen asleep. Illogically, Spock had carried the sleeping human into a more confortable position and laid down next to him. Without even thinking about it, he’d reached out and began to Vulcan kiss Jim’s hand. The momentary mind meld startled him; he had never mind melded without meaning too.

He felt – or,  _felt –_ Jim’s exhaustion through the meld and the toll it had taken on him. Spock traced the length of the human’s fingers with his thumb before turning the hand over and joining their index and middle fingers together. He’d never Vulcan kissed anyone before, although he’d seen his parents do it plenty of times, and being able to do with Jim was... illogically pleasing.  _Vulcan’s do no feel pleasure_ , he told himselfsadly.

But here he was, lying face to face practically ‘raping’ his Captain’s hand as the human slept. And he liked it. He liked the feel of Jim’s rough hands beneath him, the feel of the skin on his arm so smooth and hairless, the feel of Jim in general. He felt ... irrationally human as he continued to caress the plaint hands.  _Vulcan’s may not feel but human’s do,_  he reminded himself,  _I am half human._

He cracked a small smile and looked to the face of his sleeping companion, his eyes searching for clues as to why he was so interested in him. Why would he feel attraction towards a human? A  _male_  human at that, it was illogical to pursue a relationship if it did not end in offspring... was it not? Now that he was a member of an endangered species, it was only logical to find a mate for which to continue his race. Then why did he have such a hard time thinking about lying in bed with someone other than the man who was lying in bed with him now... looking at him with wide, clear blue eyes.

Without another thought, Spock let go of the Captain’s hand and got up. He straightened his shirt, his way of doing something with his hands when things got tense, and left without another word. His mind was addled, his fingers still felt the warm skin that he’d been touching just moments before, the skin he already missed.

* * *

Spock had tried to reach the Enterprise the moment the storm had begun to let up, only to find that things were still inoperative and that the storm was, to quote Doctor McCoy, having a good time creating havoc. Captain Kirk had woken up with a large sigh and marched into Doctor McCoy’s room with the sold intention of acting like a child by requesting they all huddle up and have a ‘camp out’. Spock had pointed out that, due to the storm, they could not have a camp  _out_  but Jim had quickly dismissed that comment with a grin.

Soon enough, after a rather lengthy breakfast, Jim had disappeared, much to Spock’s horror and delight, only to appear later on with an insatiable grin that Spock tried hard not to return.

Over the coarse of the night, Spock had to keep his emotions in check as the rest of his companions became intoxicated on alcohol that, due to his Vulcan psychology, had no effect on him. He found himself, although maintaining a rigorous amount of control, enjoying himself as Doctor McCoy told stories and the Captain joking around about the Doctors age. He didn’t laugh along with the others, although he felt his lips twitch a few times, and no one seemed to mind. He also felt eyes on him constantly, eyes like pure water... the eyes of his Captain. He ignored them and tried to maintain his emotional barriers. One slip and he might have, at the level of closeness they were all sitting in, accidentally mind-meld with someone.

At the end of the night, after being rudely told to ‘scatter’, Spock headed to his shared room with the sole purpose of meditating all the random emotions he’d picked up when his shields had wavered slightly, not that they had all that much. He opened the door, took his jackets and shoes off, and made his way to the darkest corner he could find to concentrate.

Without his usual Vulcan burning scents, Spock tried to imagine himself back on the Enterprise in his own room and tried to approximate the smells of the burning herbs. For a moment, it worked until Jim entered the room and tripped over his shoes on the way to the bathroom. He felt Jim go into the bathroom to change for bed and tried, very hard, to ignore the need to open his eyes to look at his Captain’s lean form as he climbed into bed. Those were exactly the thoughts he wanted to be rid off and if he had to meditate the entire night, then he was willing to do so.

* * *

After an unsuccessful few hours of meditation, Spock brought himself out of his trance and went to the bathroom to change. Being Vulcan meant he only needed a few hours of sleep to function unlike Jim who was snoring softly on the bed, the covers raised up to his neck. Spock changed quickly and climbed into bed, his hands joined in the traditional Vulcan salute as he stared at the ceiling contemplating everything.

Giving up on finding the answers to his many questions, at least for tonight, he turned on his side – facing Jim - and tried to relax. He was barely slipping into a unconsciousness when he felt he bed move. His eyes snapped open and quickly figured that, in his sleep, Jim had scooted closer to him. His back was nearly an inch away from Spock’s chest!

Spock moved a fraction of an inch back but that only allowed Jim to move even closer. Before he could stop himself, Spock let out a small-annoyed sigh. Annoyance was only logical as the movement of the bed was interrupting time he could be spending resting his body and mind. But Vulcan’s did not get annoyed... not even half-Vulcans. When he felt a hand reaching back, back enough to touch his chest, he realized why he felt annoyed.

They were touching slightly, Jim, awake now, had reached back and touched Spock while he was moving away, transferring a bit of emotions along with it. Spock heard his name being called out, not verbally but mentally and realized that Jim was thinking about him. Deciding it was only logical to let him know that he too was awake, Spock answered Jim’s mental call.

“Yes, Captain?” He asked, his voice deep from being unused. When Jim didn’t respond Spock decided to risk his Vulcan integrity and pulled himself closer to Jim.

“Captain,” Spock said as he placed his hands on Jim’s hips without thinking about how illogical and insane this was. “Are you aware that Vulcan’s are touch telepaths?” He felt shock coarse through Jim’s mind and then relief, which the Vulcan found himself smiling at. 


	3. Trouble in Paradise?

Jim didn't know how to reply. Somewhere, deep inside him, he was happy. Spock was finally going to know how he felt for him. The Vulcan was finally going to know how he made Jim weak at the knees, googly eyed and swoony. He was going to know how his blood burned when Nyota or anyone else touched him. He was going to find out everything.

Another part of him felt shame and insecurity. Did Spock feel the same way or was he doing what he thought was _logically_ correct? Was he hugging him because it was the most reasonable thing to do given the circumstances or were those long, soft fingers pulling his body towards him because he wanted to? Was Spock disgusted with how Jim was feeling or was he as confused as Jim was beginning to get be)?

"I... I did not know that," Jim whispered. "Does that mean... Can you read my mind?"

"Do you want me to?" Spock asked, making Jim suddenly aware of his hot breath hitting Jim's neck. "Do you wish me to read your mind?"

"I do... I don't know," Jim choked out. He felt like a ton of bricks had suddenly fallen on his chest. Slowly, tenderly, Spock's fingers made their way up to Jim's face. Jim inhaled sharply as they reached his Psi points and etched their way into his skin. Spock's fingers, so soft and tender, pressed lightly on his face but it was enough to make Jim moan out as he felt Spock's mind reaching out towards his. "Spock..."

"Sleep," Spock whispered in his ear. "Rest."

The last thing he remembered about that night was that unbelievable warmth pressing itself closer to him and the feeling of togetherness that suddenly made him feel... whole.

* * *

Jim woke up to an empty bed and a cold back. He stretched his body and his arm felt the bedside for Spock but he felt nothing. Spock was gone. Alarmed after the weird night they'd had, Jim sat up on the bed and looked around the room. He spotted movement in the bathroom and stood up to investigate. It had to be Spock, no one else had the key to come inside the room.

Slowly, just in case it was a thief, he made his way to the bathroom. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Spock dressed only in regulation black pants fixing his immaculate hair into that perfectly combed look. His arms were in the air, his eyes looking at himself through the mirror with a look that said he was calculating a math equation. But that wasn't what left Jim speechless; the fact that Spock was shirtless left him unable to talk.

It wasn't the first time Jim had seen Spock half naked. Once, they'd been captured and tortured by humanoids in a planet that resembled Nazi Germany. They'd been captured and stripped of their shirts to be lashed with a whip. Spock, unlike Jim, had taken the punishment without so much as a wince while Jim was practically crying out in pain. That was not a situation were ogling his First Officer's lean, muscular body was appropriate but now, as he stood in the doorway, he realized that he'd missed much.

Spock was lean yet muscular that much was clear by the way his clothes clung to his body in all the right places. Jim's eyes roamed the Vulcan's body with appreciative eyes, taking in all the lines and curves that his muscles formed and the way his chest hair accentuated them. He also noted a large scar running along his left side, from armpit to hip. Without another thought Jim took a step into the bathroom and reached out to touch the scar.

"C-captain?" he heard Spock say, confused as he ran his index finger over the scar. "Captain, what are you doing?"

"How did you get this?" Jim asked looking up at Spock but not ceasing his caress. "How did you get a scar so big running down your body?"

"Captain, please cease your touching." Spock took a step back, away from Jim's touch and stood up as straight as a board. Jim didn't have to be a telepath to see the tension in his body was almost tangible as the nervousness that Jim felt.

"I apologize," Jim said, "but your scar, it - I don't know – it intrigued me."

Spock nodded once and before Jim could say anything, he reached over and grabbed a shirt. He pulled it on before slipping into his science blues and, stepping around Jim, headed out of the bathroom. Over his shoulder he said softly, "As a child I had an accident that nearly cost me my life."

Jim turned but by the time it took him to formulate any kind of answer, Spock was gone. Jim had learned something about his elusive and secretive First Officer and before he could reply with sympathy he was gone. Next time he'd be ready.

* * *

Spock walked away – ran away if he was being honest with himself – from his joined room with Captain Kirk. His emotions had taken hold of him the night before when he had slept next to Captain Kirk. But now, after an hour – that was all he was able to accomplish being in such close quarters with the Captain – he had realized that his discomfort did not come from him. It had come from J- Captain Kirk (he would no longer call Captain Kirk by his first name, it was improper and inappropriate). He had been uncomfortable with the way Spock had held him.

But at the same time, Spock could still read the _acceptance, love, relief_ that had radiated off the Captain's skin. It would have confused and annoyed him, if he had feelings and emotions that is. James T. Kirk had one dynamic mind... it intrigued Spock to a point that he felt himself drown in his presence. Sometimes, if he were honest with himself, he would stare at Ji- Captain Kirk and picture what future they would have together. Or sometimes, in those rare times that he dreamt, he dreamed himself in the arms of Jim.

None of that mattered now as he walked around the compound, his hands at his sides in an attempt to keep from shaking. Jim – It was unavoidable that in his mind Captain Kirk would always be his friend. Jim – had seen his scar and had touched it. Jim had seen the long, pale green scar that ran directly from his underarm to his hipbone. The long, raised line that had nearly cost him his life and Jim had not run away.

Instead it was Spock who had run. Spock who had, after seeing those bluest of eyes widen in sympathy, ran out of the room before Jim could even comprehend what had happened. Spock had had an opportunity to - _no,_ he was not going to go there. Those kinds of thoughts were un-Vulcan. His mind was clouded, yes, from being around the emotional human for the last 34.63 hours. Emotional transference, that was all it was.

Jim had always been able to illicit an emotional response from him, always. But touching him in such a way was ... a different experience that Spock, stopped suddenly in his tracks as he came to the realisation, that perhaps he ran because he longed to feel more of the Captain's touch. No, more of _Jim's_ touch. It was an absurd conclusion yet he found his lips turning upward in a smile, which he quickly stopped. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and turned back to the compounds. Back to face the awkwardness that he was sure was going to ensue when he returned to face Captain Kirk.

 


	4. Bones Weighs In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim walks in on Spock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a few sections to Chapter 2 and 3 that wouldn't fit alone or with this chapter. It makes the story flow better to be placed before this chapter. Sorry for the inconvenience. Won't happen again. My editing has gone a bit loco.
> 
> I also apologise if you've been getting multiple alerts, my internet is acting up and I've been deleting and reposting chapters.

Jim stared at himself in the mirror, his hand running through his short dirty blonde hair. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Spock had told him something about his childhood, he'd _shared_ something without having been pressed and Jim had been stupid enough not to reply with sympathy or something. _No wonder Spock left,_ he chastised himself. _First, he feels your emotions and then you seen him half naked and he feels like he has to share something and you just stand there like an idiot._

He scoffs at himself in the mirror, what must Spock think of him? Is he disgusted? Mad that he didn't respond? Does he feel anything? After last night ... the cuddling, because really what else could that be called.. Jim knew something was up. He felt something in that warm touch of the Vulcan. Okay sure, Vulcan's had higher body temperatures but it was something else. The way the Vulcan held him, hand around his body like he was soft, fragile even, it was... an amazing feeling. He wanted to feel that again. He _needed_ to feel Spock's hands on him again _._

Splashing water on his face and trying to keep himself calm before a certain someone in his nether region got even more excited, Jim jumps at the sound of the door slamming close. He rubs his face o and walks out of the bathroom.

"Look, Spock, I'm sorry about-" McCoy was sitting on the foot of the bed his eyes light up in amusement.

"Trouble in paradise?" the Doctor asked with a grin.

"You've no idea," Jim replied leaning back on the doorframe with a sigh. This entire situation was beyond frustrating, it was infuriating because he felt like an ass for pocking and prodding into his Vulcan's life. Wait... _his_ Vulcan? He didn't own Spock in any way... when had he started to-

Doctor McCoy's somber, teasing tone snapped him out of his thoughts. "What'd you do now, Jim? Call him planet hell in Klingon?"

"Nothing that simple, Bones," Jim replied, sadly. "If only, actually, I could fix that. This, _this_ , I don't know if I can fix it. I think I messed up... big."

"Now I'm worried, Jim," Mccoy said pulling himself to his feet and standing in front of Jim. "Tell me what happened."

Jim recalled the events of the last night and this morning, leaving out his own thoughts and observations. He didn't want to admit to himself, let alone Bones, that Spock's warm body felt so right against his own. Or how angry he became when he saw the scar that ran down Spock's pale green tinted skin. Nor would he tell Bones how he blushed just thinking about that lean form and how it would feel rubbing up against him as they made love.

Nope, he wasn't feeling any of that. No, siree, he wasn't thinking about Spock's soft skin and how silky it felt under his touch. No, no he was not because Spock was his First Officer and it was wrong to think and feel these things. Yes, even if it made him sad to think that nothing could happen between them, he had to accept the fact that Spock was not touchable.

* * *

Spock headed back to the room he shared with Jim, his hands clasped behind his back stiffly. His mind was made up, he needed to talk to Jim and explain himself. He had run out without explaining and, even with his lacking human skills, he knew that was a mistake. There was still time to go and speak with Jim before they had to meet up with the rest of the stranded crewmembers.

Perhaps they could have breakfast together liked they did on the Enterprise. That would make Spock's day, the routine of spending time with Jim felt like a novelty he had to enjoy while he still had it. Hopefully, Jim would not be adverse to it. He would even invite Doctor McCoy if it made Jim happy.

He was in front of their room when he heard McCoy's laughter coming from inside. He stopped, not wanting to intrude on them. Even standing a few feet from the door, he could hear Jim's voice as he spoke to the doctor. There was a harsh tone to his voice that implied they might be having a fight of sorts. Perhaps, he would interfere and save Jim from another lecture from the Doctor.

His hand was poised to push the keypad on the side, very old age type of door, when Jim's harsh tone stopped him. Without another thought, Spock leaned down to listen in. With his Vulcan hearing he could make out most of the men's talk but he wished he hadn't.

"I swear, Bones," Jim was saying, "he cuddled me from behind. It was... strange. I haven't been cuddled in a long time, you know. But it was ... odd to see this side of him."

"Perhaps, it was one of those rare moments where Spock is actually human," the Doctor replied with a chuckle. "God knows there aren't many of 'em, Jim. Enjoy it while it last, I say."

"But what if... I enjoy it _too_ much, Bones? What if he wants something more that just an experiment with thermodynamics? What if – oh, god – what if _I_ want more than that?"

There was a tense silence. Spock could hear someone pacing, probably Jim, before McCoy asked softly, "Do you? Do you want something more from Spock, Jim?"

* * *

The door swishing open had both men turn and see a very uncomfortable looking Vulcan walking in. Spock walked in, and greeted them each with a nod. Jim followed Spock as the Vulcan made him way into the room and went to his side of the bed to get his tricorder. Jim was glad for doors and how they could announce someone's presence. It was less awkward when Spock didn't know how he could, _possibly_ , be pinning for him.

Spock took his tricorder and a few other things and left without a word. The two men looked at each other in confusion for a moment. Jim blinked and wondered if the events of this morning had corrupted their relationship that much. He hoped not.

"Oookay," Bones said, "what was that?"

Jim shrugged and looked away. He had to fix this, whatever this was, fast. If these feelings were true, then he couldn't even try to formulate a plan to get Spock without having a happy Vulcan. An angry, grumpy Vulcan was ... not all that unpleasant in theory but in reality, it was quite scary.

"I," Jim declared with a long sigh. "I want more that a First Officer."

He made a plan right there and then to get the Vulcan on his side again and woo him. Lookie there, he thought, I'm sounding romantic already!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammar and Spelling mistakes will be fixed before Chapter 6 is posted. Thanks.


	5. Another Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Jim. You must learn to knock, son.

Spock retreated into himself after hearing Doctor McCoy's question and the unusually long pause that followed. Without meaning to, he leaned down on the keypad and had opened the door. He composed himself before entering the room, gathering a few things and leaving. His heart was racing far too fast to be normal and his stomach coiled in a strange feeling. He didn't know what it all meant and it confused him.

This needs further study, he told himself as he headed out of the room and to a secluded place. He found none; every inch was either occupied or far to close to the storm. It was maddening, if he felt emotions that is, and so he resided himself with returning to the room.

After making sure there was no one inside, he went in and took a long look in the mirror. He removed his shirt, replaying the events of this morning while looking at himself in the mirror. He was nothing special... a regular Vulcan, well, a hybrid. But on the outside he was Vulcan. His eyes, they were the only things that made him stand out. His mother always told him his eyes were too lively, too beautiful. They were human while he was completely Vulcan.

Perhaps that was what confused Captain Kirk, the emotions he seemed to show in his eyes. That was easily fixed. But there was something else, something that he couldn't pin point. He was perfectly... simple. Too Vulcan to be Human and too Human to be Vulcan. An 'abomination' according to his peers and yet he felt ... he felt nothing. He knew he was just like everyone else and there was no reason for Captain Kirk to take interest in him.

Captain Kirk on the other hand was very aesthetically pleasing. His face was very symmetrical, almost too perfect for its own good and rounded off with light brown, almost blond hair and those bright blue eyes that... Spock was ashamed to admit that they kept him up at nights. He'd tried to get those eyes out of his mind during meditation but the more he tried the more the appeared ... and the Kirk's face and then his body. His laugh, his voice, the way he walked and commanded, his facial expressions, the way his lips curled when he smiled or held in a comment and even the way he clapped everyone on the back. All of it kept him up and active when he was supposed to be meditating. It was... shameful and yet, even the thought of not picturing them, made him ache.

There had to be something about him that attracted Captain Kirk, something. He touched the side of his face, moving it side to side but nothing stood out. He looked down at himself, his naked chest and low pants. Nothing. He continued to inspect himself, completely missing the sound of the door opening.

* * *

Jim ate breakfast as fast as he could, his mind whirling with thoughts. He ate everything that Bones put on his plate without complain and then went back to his room. He walked in way too busy planning a way to get Spock and completely missing the discarded science blues on the bed. When he turned to go to the bathroom, his jaw dropped open. There was Spock, half naked in front of the mirror. That wasn't what had him shocked.

Spock was touching himself, his eyes firmly planted on the mirror. His long fingers touched his face first, pulling at his skin in various ways as if inspecting himself. Then down his neck, tilting his head to each side and giving Jim a look at his pale skin. The skin he desperately wanted to touch and kiss. His heart nearly stopped when Spock's hands moved to his naked chest.

He ran his hand through his chest hair that decorated his pectorals and down his abdomen in a neat line. A line that circled around his belly and disappeared down his low-ridding pants. His hands ran up and down the hair and he frowned. Jim blinked, letting out a shaky breath as Spock began to pull down his pants.

 _Fuck, I shouldn't be here,_ he told himself. _I should turn around and leave as silently as I can and never mention witnessing this._

His legs didn't move however, not even when the Vulcan hooked his fingers at the side of his hips and began to slowly pull his pants down. He felt himself blushing as the Vulcan lowered his pants down to mid-thigh. But soon the hands reached down and brought the pants back up, covering himself.

Slowly, Jim looked up Spock's body until he reached his eyes that were clearly looking at him from under the fringe of black hair. Jim blushed a deep red and turned around, letting Spock have a moment.

"Um, h-hey, Sp-Spock." Jim rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed the lump that appeared his throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to-"

"Get out," A stern voice said behind him with a snarl. Jim didn't need to be told twice and immediately left the room.

* * *

Spock's hand unclenched and there seemed to be something wrong with the gravity upon the floor for he crashed to the floors, his lungs gasping for air. The words _like a fish out of water_ entered his mind as oxygen reached his lungs, seemingly reviving him. He continued to gasp however, his mouth open and eyes stinging from the force of impact from which he landed on the floor, his back hitting the walls. He reached for the corner of the basin, trying to lift himself up an perhaps splash some water on his face, but it seemed that the gravity had yet to return for his body refused to listen to him. His legs felt heavy; his heartbeat was quicker than normal, his breathing still askew, his eye still stung.

 _Perhaps I have fallen ill,_ he thought to himself only to shake his head _. Illogical. I have had no symptoms, nothing to indicate... Jim_.

He had yelled at Jim, had thrown him out of the room for catching him in a vulnerable moment. It would be best to explain himself. What would he say? It had been his error, his misjudgment of the human sleeping cycle, which had brought about this misunderstanding. It would be best to allow things to ‘cool’ down, as the Captain would say before explaining himself. As he laid on the floor, the control over his body returning whilst he took deep breathes and centered his chakra, he recalled the look on Jim’s face.

 _What if I want more than that –_ the captain had asked the doctor – _What if I want more?_ Did he have that look of complete and utter admiration as he realised his feelings for Spock? Or did his eyes bulge in the realisation, shame and confusion clouding his blue eyes?

If he were not Vulcan, he would ask Doctor McCoy for information. But, he was Vulcan, and so, the knowledge that Jim cared about him – or thought he did – was enough to sustain what little hope his human had. His Vulcan side remained in blissful of the emotions his human side felt, fighting against them, trapping them behind mental walls until there was nothing but an ache.

Finally able to sit up, he pushed his weight off the floor with a single push of his legs. He leaned on the basin, his head bowed and eyes glued on his long, skilled fingers. The fingers that had been caressing Jim – digging into Jim’s hips, his muscular back, stroking his soft cheek – now looked as miserable as he did.

Illogically, he missed the warmth of Jim’s body against his, missed the constant inhale and exhales of his lungs, the puffs of breath that escaped through his slightly agape lips, the slight snore and fidgety legs.

He closed his eyes, centring himself internally, clearing his mind from all the unnecessary thoughts that now roamed within, and then stood up straight. His eyes found themselves in the mirror, unblinking.

With a deep breath, Spock exited the bathroom, put on a shirt and left the room, tricorder in hand. He had many scans to take of the environment and of the aftermath of the electrical storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammar and Spelling mistakes will be corrected before next post.


	6. Bones Gets Things Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim parties with a doctor. Bones has other plans for the after party.

Jim does what he always does when things get a bit too uncomfortable in his mind -- he heads to Bones. Always able to get some prospective by speaking with the good doctor (by way of getting yelled at but who was he to complain) and this would be no different. Except... this time the problem wasn’t something that could be hypoed away or be removed off Enterprise via shuttle pod. This time the problem was a six-foot tall Vulcan who happened to be his First Officer and thus had to be everywhere Jim was.

Bones was going to give him a stern talking to and maybe -- just _maybe_ \-- that would reset his brain back to the professionalism switch instead of the I’m-hopelessly-in-love-with-you-I-think switch it currently had.

He sprinted to McCoy’s quarters, pressing the bell once as he straightened his shirt and his shoulders. Bones wasn’t about to let him in if he suspected he was going bat shit crazy, he had to look normal to cross the door’s threshold. Once inside, he could unleash the beast.

“Bones!” Jim banged on the door after a while. “Open up! That’s an order!”

* * *

Leonard was dreaming of Earth. The bright sun was beaming down on his high above his head. The wind, so crisp and fresh, hit his face as he turned to look around the field he stood on. Nothing but grass, trees and sun for miles off. Just the way he liked it. He could see buildings, their roofs just peeking above the tall grass.

He raised his arms above his head, fingers reaching for the sun’s rays like there was no tomorrow. He’d missed what that felt like, missed the breeze swaying his hair, blowing it to his face. The Enterprise might have been a technological wonder but there was one thing it didn’t have: nature. He was a good ol’ country boy; nature was inscribed in his bones. The artificial light on-board felt as unnatural as the blasted transporter. He preferred the sun -- no contest. How could anyone - no matter how many years on-board that damned ship -- know what time it was when the black hole that was space was always dark and looming?

Only Jim could persuade him to remain on the Enterprise - hell, who else would be able to stop the damned fool from killing himself on every mission cos god sake someone else went planet side and get phasered when a perfectly good captain still had all his limbs. If it were anyone else, Jim would have been relieved off duty long ago. That green-eared hobgoblin too, for that matter.

They both drove him crazy. Jim, unconscious in the sick bay, whilst Spock, the acting captain, called down every five minutes to ask for a status report. Maybe one day, if it were a particularly good day, Bones would call the bridge and ask Spock for reports of how space looked from his end. Let’s see how crazy that drives, Spock!

_Thought_ , he rethinks a moment later, _he would probably be all too glad to explain what he saw with all those technical mumbo-jumbo. I wouldn’t put that past him…_

The sky suddenly turned black, the sun hide behind the rapidly expanding clouds, the bright light disappearing as fast as it had appeared. Bones looked around the grassy knoll, his arms wrapping around his midsection as the wind picked up, a harsh breeze rather than a nice, cool draft.

"Bones! Open up! That's an order!"

"Jim?" Bones looked around, his eyes scanning the shadows now covering most of the grass. "This is my dream. Not yours! This aint no matinee!"

"BONES!"

McCoy snapped awake with a groan. Goddamit, he thought, I can't get a decent night sleep even on a damn planet. He got out of bed, stretching his sore muscles and let out a deep sigh. A good doctor needs at least ten hours of sleep when the outside world is nothing but sand, didn’t Jim read the ‘taking care of your CMO’ manual?

"Apparently not," he muttered, reaching for the touchpad. "What in the hell-"

"We have a problem," Jim said as he passed by McCoy, brushing past him.

"Morning, Jim. Morning, Bones," the doctor remarked, closing the door behind him and eyeing the bottle of whiskey he had procured from a vender a few doors down. Even without the magic of linguistics that Uhura had, he managed to arrange for a bottle in exchange for a certain chocolate bar he usually kept for Jim when the idiot forgot to eat. He turned to Jim, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "What's going on, Jim?"

"I may, or may not, have walked in on Spock," Jim said vaguely.

"Walked in… on him doing what, exactly? Do I want to know? Do I _need_ to know?"

McCoy made his way to the bottle of whiskey that sat on a nearby table. He opened it; enjoying the sound the bottle made as the seal was broken. How the hell this vender got authentic two hundred year old human whiskey was beyond him but however he got it well… he sure was thankful for it.

"- I didn’t know he was in the room, I swear. I thought he was out doing science stuff,” Jim was saying. McCoy poured them both a drink, adding more to his cup than to Jim’s. He was already strung up on something; whiskey wouldn’t help in bringing him down. “I walked in and he was in the bathroom. He was pulling down his -"

"Ima stop you right there!" McCoy exclaimed, turning to Jim who shook his head and reached for the drink the doctor extended. He cradled it between his hands, not taking a drink unlike McCoy who took a sip before setting it down with a grimace. Authentic whiskey it was not.

“I saw his scar,” Jim said suddenly, turning to the doctor. “Why didn’t you tell me about his scar? I nearly had a heart attack.”

“What scar?” he asked, confused.

“The scar he has along his side, bones. I reached out and -“

“I’ve never seen a scar on Spock. I’m pretty sure the CMO would know if an officer had a scar, Jim. I do physical exams, ya know?”

“What? Of course he has a scar! I saw it; I reached out and almost touched it. That’s not the point! The point is-“

“He doesn’t have a scar, Jim,” the doctor protested.

“Bones!”

“Don’t you ‘Bones’ me. I’ve never seen an mid-axillary abdominal scar on your First Officer.“

“Maybe you just didn’t notice it, I didn’t until it was staring me right in the face.”

McCoy blinked, trying to think back but finding absolutely no recollection of ever seeing a scar on Spock. Nothing he would have done would have left such a scar, not one so untreated as the one Jim described. He sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Jim, and turned to him. Maybe this is where it starts, he thought, maybe he’s starting to loose his damned mind. Where is my -

“You’re making that face, Bones. I don’t like that face.”

“What face? This is my normal face.”

“The ‘he’s gone nuts’ face you get right before I get a hypo in the neck. I swear you are as shifty as a ninja; I never see it coming.”

“I’m not going to hypo you, Jim.”

“You sure do look like you are,” Jim replied, taking a sip of the whiskey and wincing. He coughed, the harsh drink burning his throat. He took a deep breath, placing his cup near Bones’ and asked harshly, “Where did you – did you get this? Qo’noS?"

"No, but it sure does but taste like it," the doctor replied. "Never trade chocolate for booze, Jim."

"What?" Jim blinked.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Now, tell me about this scar of Spock's."

* * *

Three hours later and a full bottle of 'genuine' whiskey, McCoy and Jim were laying on the floor, giggling at a spot on the ceiling that looked, to their alcohol blurred eyes, like a cat.

McCoy, having hypoed himself earlier in the bathroom, was nowhere near as drunk as Jim. He was good at pretending though; even more surprising was the fact that Jim believed him. Okay, maybe, he was just a bit drunk. After all, it does take a few shots to acquire a taste for the drink then a few more to be able to fake having to go to the bathroom then just a few more before the hypo starts to work.

McCoy watched as Jim raised his arms, his pointe finger trembling as he pointed to the spot on the ceiling.

"It-it looks l-like a a a kitty!" Jim stammered out with a giggle. The doctor giggled back, his throat sore from the amount of times he had had to laugh so far. "You know who else looks like a kitty?" Jim asked softly, turning to McCoy.

"Jim-"

"Spock does."

"Stop, Jim," the doctor - now a worried best friend - said, turning to Jim slowly, hand stretched to pass the bottle. "You are not a love sick child. Spock isn't a - and you're snoring. Alright, then…"

Leonard stood up, letting Jim fall to the side of the floor with a loud thump. He didn’t even stir, merely adjusted his long legs to a more comfortable position as Leonard rolled his eyes. He wasn’t about to just let the poor drunk captain lay on the cold floor so he crouched down, his back protesting loudly as he half carried, half dragged Jim to the bed. Again, Jim did nothing but snore and get more comfortable. Leonard put Jim on his side, checked his bio signs and then placed a bin near the edge of the bed where Jim could reach it should the need to throw up arose before he got back.

Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy had a plan. Admittedly not a very smart or thought out plan but a one that would at least get some resolution between the Captain and his First Officer before their return trip back to Enterprise.

_If this storm will let up soon, that is_ , Leonard thought to himself, stupid sand storm. _You would think that men who can fly planet to planet woulda found a way to stop electric sand storms by now._

He glanced at Jim one last time before going to the door. He had to find a way to get these two to … something that wasn’t hostile. Jim felt strongly about Spock and Spock, well, being a Vulcan, probably didn’t. But he was also half-human so there was a slim chance, very slim but still plausible. Leonard only hoped, for Jim’s sake.

 

 


End file.
